


Learning to Speak

by cuubism



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane, Angst with a Happy Ending, Communication, Devotion, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Intimacy, Finding Your Voice, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Hurt Alec Lightwood, Insecurity, M/M, Repression, Self-Discovery, Slight Canon Divergence, Tenderness, and the journey to it, difficult conversations, past trauma, soft, various canon scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27768904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuubism/pseuds/cuubism
Summary: After so long spent having to hide parts of who he is, Alec loves telling Magnus how he feels about him. Even if Magnus has a hard time doing the same.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 34
Kudos: 141
Collections: The Malec Secret Santa - Edition 2020





	Learning to Speak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EternallySilverMagnusandAlec](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternallySilverMagnusandAlec/gifts).



> Merry Christmas! I hope you like it :)

The first time he sees Magnus, the first time Magnus turns to look at him, Alec loses his ability to speak.

That's never happened to him before. And it's not as if he always tells people what he's really thinking—he has secrets after all, very _necessary_ secrets—but that's a calculation, a _choice_.

With this—Alec isn’t sure he could say anything to Magnus even if he wanted to. Not anything _real_ , at any rate.

Magnus looks at him like he knows. And Alec wonders if, for all his flirtations and brash declarations, Magnus is holding something back, too.

Alec can’t know for sure. All he really knows is he wants to see more of him, so he can find out. 

*

Alec knows better than to be here.

This is dangerous. Magnus’s loft is dangerous. Not because of Magnus, but because of what it _means._ The unraveling of a carefully walled-in life.

He’s about to say as much—well, not _that_ , but some excuse as to why he has to leave before the aching in his heart can keep him here, when Magnus raises a finger to his lips.

And everything in Alec stills for the first time he can remember.

He can hear his heartbeat pounding louder in his ears, but everything else is— _quiet_. His vision narrows in on Magnus, the glitter under his eyes, the subtle vibrancy of him. And suddenly, he can’t remember why anything else is supposed to matter.

It’s quiet. It’s _never_ quiet.

And Magnus is the opposite of a quiet person, but still everything in Alec settles before him. He thinks he might stop breathing if Magnus were to actually touch him.

Magnus doesn’t touch him. He does, however, watch Alec rather knowingly as he invites him to stay.

And Alec _wants_ to stay. Here, in Magnus’s orbit. He knows he shouldn’t give in to that want, that it could tear out the cornerstone of everything he’s so carefully built.

He stays anyway.

*

Magnus is a flurry of sharpness and blue, his grace tempered by anger. Alec can’t tell if Magnus is angry at him or at the world or both. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

What does matter: Magnus is a sharply-moving thing that sets him alight. Alec so rarely feels _alight_. What matters even more: under Magnus’s quickfire anger is a deep distress that brings all of the lines of him into relief. Alec wants to hold him until he softens again.

Magnus stalks closer to him, the silk of his shirt shifting over his shoulders. His eyeshadow is dark and hollowing, his eyes glint in the dim light of the loft. He has such a natural grace to him, an ease of being that Alec’s admired since the first moment he saw him—though Alec’s starting to suspect that it’s not actually _ease_ at all. Rather, Magnus’s existence is hard-won and tenuous, an act of continuous strength and balance and delicacy.

Alec admires him all the more, knowing that, _feeling_ that, because his own life has also been built against a current, different from Magnus’s but precarious all the same.

And Alec can’t tell him— _any_ of that. He can’t tell him that he’s so beautiful it makes Alec’s chest hurt. That the thought of leaving the loft, going home, leaves an aching cavern under his ribs. He can’t tell him, because this—him, Magnus, _them_ , if there even is a ‘them,’— _is_ the precarity threatening everything.

Magnus circles around him, leaning in close. Alec can smell his cologne, and has to close his eyes for a second to get his bearings. He feels Magnus’s magic brush his neck, so like a flame but cool to the touch. It feels like mourning for something they should have been able to have.

_What about love?_ Magnus challenges.

And Alec thinks, despairingly, _what about it? What_ about it _, Magnus?_

*

What about it.

Alec looks at Magnus at the far end of the aisle and thinks, _I could love you._ He’s never thought that about someone before, not in that way. He’s not sure he ever will again.

When he walks toward Magnus, his vision tunnels. All he can focus on is Magnus, the details of him: the streak of red in his hair, the velvet of his jacket, the glitter under his eyes. Everything else is so bright and _loud_ —the shocked gasps, the murmurings, the very air.

When he kisses Magnus, it’s quiet. It feels like the first time he saw him, the first time he stayed the night in Magnus’s loft: that sudden clarity that shears through everything he’s constructed in his head. _This_ is what matters: the way Magnus leans into him. The realness of his chest under Alec’s hands. The kiss feels like a declaration—of everything he hadn’t been able to say before, of everything he’ll want to say, someday.

So when he finds Magnus afterwards, it rolls so easily off his tongue, this simple request that seems to mean so much, that harkens back to their first moment together, and an Alec who had to stay silent for his own protection—but no longer.

“You wanna go get that drink sometime?”

*

It’s shockingly easy, once he starts doing it, for Alec to tell Magnus how he feels about him. It’s like the words spill forth from his mouth almost unbidden, like they can’t hide in the darkness any longer, and he wonders how he didn’t choke on them, before, when he was unable to speak.

“I don’t care how many people you’ve been with,” he says, almost started to find that it’s true. He doesn’t care about any of the complications. All he cares about is Magnus _now_ , and how he feels about him, which is—well, he sort of still doesn’t want to think about just _quite_ how big that feeling is.

Magnus looks sort of shocked, but allows Alec to kiss him, leaning up into the touch. And Alec says what he wanted to say when he first saw him, what he’s wanted to say every time after:

“God, you’re _so_ beautiful.”

Magnus melts, looking away over Alec’s shoulder with a sort of pleased embarrassment. “Flatterer.”

“I’m only stating the truth,” Alec tells him.

“Yes, you always are, aren’t you?”

Alec isn’t entirely sure what he means by that, but Magnus is looking up at him with a gentle, warm smile on his face, so it must be good.

Alec leans in to kiss him again.

*

Magnus is holding the omamori charm like his hands have forgotten how to hold. Like this is the first thing they’ve really needed to hold. Alec is starting to get concerned by his silence when Magnus looks up at him and says, “You got this—for me?”

Alec nods. “It’s supposed to bring you luck and protection.” He thinks he might have been embarrassed by it, once, this gross sentimentality, but he isn’t now. He knows there’s no functional utility to the charm. That isn’t the point. He wants Magnus to carry a piece of him with him, and just hopes that isn’t too much to ask for.

Magnus tentatively closes his fingers around the charm like it might vanish from his grasp. “I— thank you, Alexander.”

Alec pulls Magnus close to kiss him, feeling his chest light up when Magnus hums into his mouth, reaches up to twine a hand in his hair.

“No need to thank me,” he says when they part. “Just let it do its job, okay? Let it protect you.” And then, because he feels almost compelled to say it: “I couldn’t handle it if you got hurt.”

Magnus hums again. His hand is still on the nape of Alec’s neck, and he strokes softly at his hair.

“I will try.”

*

It turns out Alec’s the one who needed the protection charm.

Though what he really needs protection from is himself, because he’s always thinking about Magnus. Including, and especially, when he’s in the middle of a fight and a demon is coming at him.

He cuts it straight through with his seraph blade, but not before it gets him in the side, claws cleaving through his gear. Alec hits the ground hard, and at first he thinks, _maybe it’s not so bad_.

Then he tries to push himself up, and his vision shatters into a million colors, and he thinks, _oh, right. Venom._

He’s vaguely aware of Izzy crouched over him, yelling into her phone, but whatever she’s saying is too far away to hear.

*

It’s startling, to come to in Magnus’s bed. Because it’s not that they haven’t shared a bed before, but they don’t do it _regularly,_ and Alec’s always a little wary of encroaching on Magnus’s space, pushing too far.

He stretches out on the sheets, trying to come back into his body. His side is sore, but less than should be expected, even from an _iratze_. And as he pushes himself to sit up, his hand closes over something that was sitting in his palm.

The omamori charm.

“This was meant to be for _you_ ,” Alec says before he can think about it.

And Magnus, who’s sitting beside him, dead quiet, staring off into space so intensely Alec’s not even sure he’s heard him, startles and looks at him.

_“Alexander,”_ he says instead of addressing Alec’s comment. His voice is quiet, disused, grief threading through it. He leans over to help Alec sit up with gentle hands. “Shh, don’t move too much, you’re still not fully healed.”

Alec groans as the act of sitting up aggravates the scar tissue in his side. “What _happened?_ ”

Magnus looks away again. His hands twist into each other. He looks very tired, Alec notices suddenly. “Venom. Don’t worry, I extracted it. It will take another few days for the wound to heal completely, though. You’ll have to take it easy.” He rubs at his ear and still doesn’t look at Alec.

It hurts, to see him looking so distant. Alec tries to call out to him. “Magnus.”

No response.

_“Magnus.”_

When Magnus stays looking away from him, Alec reaches out and takes his hand. He places the charm back in his palm.

Finally, Magnus looks at him. There are tears brimming at the corners of his eyes.

“This was meant to protect _you_ ,” Alec says, closing Magnus’s fingers over the charm.

Magnus looks down at it. “You needed all the help you could get,” he says. And then, looking back up at Alec, “You worried me.”

It seems to pain him a little, to admit it.

“I’m sorry,” Alec says. 

_“No.”_ Magnus shakes his head. “No.”

And they’re still sort of new, they still don’t really do this. But still Alec tugs on Magnus’s sleeve, pulls him in close. “Come here.”

Magnus follows his pull, climbs into bed with him, and Alec pulls him close. Magnus hesitates, then tucks his face into the curve of Alec’s shoulder, pressing up close to him.

“Don’t let me hurt you,” Magnus murmurs, ever wary of Alec’s wounded side.

“Never,” Alec promises.

*

_Don’t let me hurt you_ , Magnus had said. _Don’t let me hurt you._ As if he could ever.

Alec, on the other hand…

He’d yelled at him. He’d yelled at him, and now Magnus is missing, missing in an Institute full of dead Downworlders, he could be lying somewhere hurt, or _dead_ , and does he even know? Does he even know that Alec loves him?

The rising sun should be a blessing after one of the darkest nights the Institute’s ever seen. But it means less than nothing to Alec, not without—

“Alexander—”

Alec spins around and crushes Magnus in a hug, effectively cutting off anything else he might have been going to say. He can’t _breathe_ for the relief crashing through him, but he manages to say into Magnus’s shoulder—

“I love you.”

He can’t bear for Magnus to go another second without knowing it.

“Magnus, I love you, I— _by the Angel._ ” That’s all he can say, the rest is swallowed by the relief of Magnus’s presence.

Magnus pulls away to look at him. He looks sort of startled. “I—” he tries to say, and has to pause to center himself. “I love you, too.”

Alec hugs him again, because he’s so overwhelmed with feeling that he _has_ to, and Magnus hugs him back, shaking a little.

“I thought I lost you,” Alec says, clinging to him.

Magnus shushes him. “I know.”

*

It’s even easier, after that, saying it to him. Even when Magnus is struggling, and has a hard time accepting it, Alec will say it to him.

When Magnus comes home after a tough client—

“I love you.”

When Magnus is going through one of his spells where all he can manage seems to be sitting out on the balcony, smoking cigarette after cigarette—

“I love you.”

When Magnus is shaken and hurting after the incident with Azazel, barely able to handle anything from Alec at all—

Quietly, and from a distance— “I love you.”

Alec tries not to feel hurt when Magnus doesn’t always say it back. 

*

It’s hard not saying it to him, when they’re broken up. Even harder than not being together is this: not being able to let Magnus know how loved he is.

Standing in the alleyway outside the Hunter’s Moon, looking at him, the words get caught in Alec’s throat. He’s not sure he can handle it if Magnus doesn’t say it back.

Magnus watches him, arms wrapped around himself. God, he looks so tired, Alec thinks. So tired and stressed beyond belief. And Alec realizes that however much Magnus may have stood by his decision, this has been incredibly hard on him.

Alec steps closer, grateful when Magnus doesn’t move away, but actually seems to soften as Alec approaches.

“Magnus…” he takes another step closer, “I love you.”

It feels like breathing again, to say it.

Magnus softens further. “I know,” he says, and then, “I’ve missed you.”

How Alec’s missed him, too. They’ve been working so closely together recently that it shouldn’t be possible, but he’s _missed him_.

He gets close enough to pull Magnus into a hug, and Magnus lets him, going boneless in Alec’s arms, like he’s been putting so much effort into holding himself up that the moment the opportunity comes to let it go he can’t help but collapse.

Alec holds him up, keeping _himself_ upright solely on the warmth and solidness of Magnus in his arms, the relief of having him there.

“I love you,” he says again, into Magnus’s hair, and Magnus lets out a sort of whimper against his throat. “I love you.”

*

Magnus struggles with saying it, is something Alec’s realized. And it’s not that Alec doesn’t _feel_ loved; Magnus _shows_ him. He magicks hot drinks into Alec’s hands when he comes in from the cold. He gives him a hug when he can sense Alec’s feeling down and doesn’t know how to ask for it. He’s always there when Alec needs him, before Alec even _realizes_ he needs him. But saying it aloud, committing to it—Magnus rarely does it unless Alec does it first.

So Alec tries to say it as much as possible.

He comes up behind Magnus when he’s working in his apothecary, wraps his arms around him, presses a kiss into the side of his neck. “I love you.”

Magnus tilts his head up to look at him, offers him a smile and a kiss on the check. “I love you, too. Now _shoo_ before you distract me and I accidentally blow up the apartment.”

“Mmm, might be worth it.”

He comes to find him when Magnus gets lost in his thoughts, when he’s standing on the balcony, staring out over the city, a drink in his hand but not sipping from it.

Alec stands beside him, leans against him, letting Magnus support himself on him.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking about,” he says, “but I love you, you know.”

Magnus leans his head on his shoulder. “I know, darling. I love you, too.”

He wakes him with a soft kiss on his lips, runs a hand through his hair. Magnus always melts into it, wakens to look at him with unglamoured eyes.

“I love you,” Alec tells him, wanting it to be the first thing he hears when he wakes up.

And Magnus looks at him with this soft wondrous expression, always caught off guard by it.

“My darling,” he says, pressing a hand to Alec’s cheek.

Alec will keep saying it first until Magnus believes it.

*

If Alec has to have last words, he knows what he wants them to be.

Magnus comes careening down the alleyway toward him, skids to his knees in a way that must tear up the fabric of his pants, never mind _hurt_. “Alexander—”

Alec takes Magnus’s hands from where they’re hovering over him and holds them in his own. “Magnus—”

“Shhh, don’t talk, you’ll—” Magnus swallows harshly. “Save your strength.”

And Alec knows he doesn’t have long, but he _has_ to say it to him, even if, _especially_ if, it’s for the last time.

“I love you.” The words are broken and jagged, pushed out around the arrow driven through his lungs. They shear right through Magnus, his expression crumples, his hands on Alec’s chest fluttering desperately.

“No, _no_ , _don’t_ , please, darling—”

But Alec’s already fading, satisfied that at the very least, he’s told Magnus what he needs to.

*

Afterwards, when the hole is gone from Alec’s chest, and Magnus has a new one carved in his, Magnus lies down beside him in their bed, tracing a finger back and forth over the scar tissue on Alec’s heart. He’s wearing one of his silk robes open on his chest, and Alec can’t help but think that Magnus should have a scar, too, anything to show how he’s actually feeling inside.

“I love you,” Magnus says, still quietly dragging his finger across Alec’s skin. “I should have said it, before.”

“Before…?” But Alec thinks he already knows what Magnus is talking about.

_“Before,”_ Magnus insists. “When…” _you were dying_. “I should have said it back to you.”

“No, Magnus, it’s okay—”

“It’s not.” Magnus lets out a sigh. “I suppose I was thinking—oh, I don’t know what I was thinking. I _wasn’t_ thinking. But the point is, you deserved to hear it. You _always_ deserve to hear it. I’m sorry that… I have a hard time sometimes. Saying it.”

He sounds so sad about it. Alec doesn’t want him to feel that way, especially not _now_ , when things are already hard enough.

He takes Magnus’s hand and kisses his knuckles. “It’s okay. I know how you feel.”

“Do you?” Magnus’s gaze is searing and very sad. “Do you really?”

_“Yes.”_ Alec tugs him in until Magnus is lying pressed against his side, his nose tucked in against Alec’s neck. “You show me, don’t you? I know that you love me. I always know.”

Magnus still seems unsettled, but he stays against Alec’s side. “You’re good at that,” he finally murmurs after a long silence.

“At what?”

“Just— saying how you feel.”

Alec supposes it’s true, though he wouldn’t phrase it as the statement of fact Magnus seems to think it is. While it’s true that he’s never exactly been known to mince words, growing up he doesn’t think he was ever _truly_ honest with his feelings with anyone. Not before Magnus.

“Maybe,” he says. “I don’t know.”

“You _are_ ,” Magnus insists. “It’s something I love about you. I can always count on you to be honest with me about how you feel.”

There’s something almost wistful in his voice, and Alec pulls him closer, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“Okay,” he concedes. “How’s this for honest feelings? I love you. And it’s going to be okay.”

They haven’t talked about his magic yet. Alec’s not sure if this even counts as “talking about it.”

Magnus sniffles. “How?” 

“I don’t know,” Alec says, and he really doesn’t. “But it will.”

*

It doesn’t get better. Alec doesn’t know how to make it better, not when Magnus won’t _let him._

Or, rather—he does know how to make it better. But not in a way either of them is going to be happy with.

Magnus is staring at him like he doesn’t even know who Alec _is._ Like he’s been transported to a darker world, one where the few truths he still holds have been turned on their heads.

Alec hates that he’s brought him to such a place, hates that it was _necessary_. He hates himself for the things he’s _saying_ to him, terrible things, hates watching them embed themselves in Magnus’s chest. _The spark in you is out for good. I’m not in love with you anymore._

And—Alec’s never lied to Magnus like this. He lied about the Soul Sword. But he’s _never_ lied to him about his feelings for him. Not ever.

He wonders if Magnus can catch the disingenuousness in his tone, or if his feeling that he doesn’t deserve kind words is too deeply ingrained to allow for it.

Apparently it’s the latter. Magnus doesn’t try to follow him as he walks away. The slump in his posture isn’t just grief, but resignation.

It makes Alec’s chest want to cave in, the knowledge that some part of Magnus has just been waiting for this moment. Maybe that’s why he never pushes, never asks, never says anything first _._

But it’s too late for Alec to try and remedy that now.

Magnus probably wouldn’t believe him anyway.

*

The last thing Alec expects is for Magnus to storm into his office the next day, magic flaring along every inch of his skin. Some part of Alec thrills to see it, that spark back in his eyes, even if it’s now mainly _anger_ , and directed at _him_.

_“How—”_ Magnus starts after he’s slammed the door shut and locked it. He stays over there, not coming any closer to Alec. “How _dare you—”_

It’s evidently too late to try and hide the deal from Magnus. Alec can only hope that this won’t invalidate it.

He raises his hands in self-defense, respecting Magnus’s wishes to stay on the other side of the room even if all he wants is to be closer to him. “It was the _only way_ —”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I don’t care that you summoned Asmodeus.”

Alec blinks. “You… don’t?”

Magnus crosses his arms. “Well, that _was_ incredibly _stupid_ , Alexander. But quite frankly, it’s secondary.”

Alec’s about to ask, _secondary to what?_ when Magnus stalks closer to him and he figures he’s about to find out.

“How dare you—” Magnus is clearly trying to maintain his composure, but his voice starts quivering, and there’s a catch in his throat when he speaks— _“say_ those things to me? Those awful things, I— I thought you _loved_ me.”

Alec tries to swallow around the pain in his throat. “I do,” he says quietly. “I had to make you believe it.”

“Oh, I believed it.” Magnus turns away as if he can’t bear to look at him any longer. “For a moment, anyway. But then I thought, you’ve always told me how you feel. If you had been feeling those things all along, why wouldn’t you just _say_ so?”

“Magnus—”

Magnus practically hisses at him. “Let me _finish_.”

Alec lets him, taking a step back for good measure.

“I didn’t deserve that,” Magnus says, as if he’s convincing himself of it as he says it, “those things you said to me. I didn’t deserve it.”

And despite the perversity of the situation, Alec can’t help but be sort of proud of him, for saying that.

Magnus deflates, then. “That’s all I wanted to say.”

Alec wonders if he’ll leave, wonders what he could possibly _say_ to keep him here, but instead Magnus just backs up to the wall, slides down it so he’s sitting on the floor, puts his face in his hands.

Alec comes cautiously around to the front of his desk, sits on the floor with his back against it so he’s at Magnus’s level.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “I didn’t mean any of it.”

Magnus huffs out a weak laugh into his hands. “I know, that’s the worst part.”

After a long moment of hiding his face, Magnus finally looks back up at him.

“How is it fair, Alec?” he demands. “How is it fair that _you’re_ the one who’s hurt me, yet the only person I want to go running to about it is _you?_ ”

Alec thinks this is probably more honesty than he’s gotten from Magnus in a long time. He tries not to think too deeply about that.

“It’s not fair,” he says.

At that, Magnus pushes himself back up, straightening himself out. A jolt of panic runs through Alec at the idea that Magnus will _leave_ , leave before Alec can make it _right_.

But Magnus just says, “I have to go deal with my father. And I should probably ensure Lorenzo is no longer a chameleon while I’m at it. Will you meet me at home tonight?”

Alec scrambles to his feet. “No longer a _what?_ Wait, you got your apartment back?”

“Yes… please don’t ask how. I’ll see you tonight?”

_“Yes,”_ Alec says, hope starting to banish the despair that’s been overtaking his chest, “of course.”

Magnus nods once, and then he’s gone, and it’s only after he’s left that Alec realizes exactly what he said:

_Meet me at_ home.

*

When Alec gets to the loft later, Magnus is sitting on the couch with a drink, looking vaguely singed and unsettled.

Alec sits down tentatively beside him. “You okay?”

Magnus nods, reaches up to touch the tips of his hair. “It’s just a bit of smoke.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Magnus sets his drink down abruptly. Alec’s ready for anger, accusation, can’t help but feel he deserves it.

What he isn’t ready for is for Magnus to sigh and say, “This was all my fault.”

Alec tries to protest. “No, Magnus—”

Magnus raises a hand to stop him. “In a way,” he clarifies, “because I don’t think I—” he lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ve never been honest with you about how I feel. That’s what led to all of this.”

Alec shifts tentatively closer to him. “Magnus… it’s okay. I never want you to have to do something you’re uncomfortable with.”

But Magnus just shakes his head. “One can’t grow that way, Alexander. I’ve gotten too used to… not growing.”

Alec isn’t sure _this_ is really the moment for Magnus to be berating himself over his perceived weaknesses, but neither of them has ever been any good at that sort of timing.

“You’ve been living one way for a long time,” Alec says gently. “It’s okay to have trouble with changing, all of a sudden.”

“It’s not just that, I—” Magnus has let Alec get closer all this while, and Alec manages to reach out and grab his hands. Magnus sighs at the touch. “I’m not used to someone like you, someone who won’t… take what I say as reason to leave me. Whether what I say is good or bad, love or suffering, someone always takes it as a reason to leave.”

_Like I did last night_ , Alec thinks with a wrenching pain in his chest, but doesn’t say it.

“And so, I’ve gotten rather good at not saying it,” Magnus finishes, lips twisting.

“You deserve to be honest,” Alec says, “and not have it held against you. If someone has a problem with that, that’s on _them_.”

Magnus nods. “That’s the advice I’d give someone who came to me with this issue,” he agrees. Then he looks down at their joined hands. “And yet, difficult to put into practice.”

“So, let’s practice it,” Alec says. “Tell me how you feel. Don’t hold any of it back.”

Magnus lets out a small laugh. “I think I’ve already told you off well enough today.”

“That’s okay.” Alec squeezes his hands. “Say it anyway.”

Magnus looks back up at him tentatively. After a moment, he says, “It hurt me, to hear you say those things. I’ve heard it all before, mind you, but it hurt more, hearing it from you. I know you didn’t mean it,” he adds quickly as if he thinks Alec will jump in, “but it hurts all the same.”

“I’m sorry,” Alec says, heart squeezing, even if he’s honestly not sure he wouldn’t make the same choice. Magnus _does_ have his magic back, after all.

Magnus nods. “I know, darling.” He’s quiet for a moment, contemplative. “I’m sorry, as well. I wish I was the type of partner who was as open with his affections as you need.”

“You think you’re _not?_ You think I don’t—” Alec flounders for words— _“feel loved?”_

Magnus raises a challenging eyebrow. “You felt you were dispensable to me. Or am I wrong?”

Alec starts to deny it, but realizes he can’t. His behavior’s already made his feelings clear on this matter.

“And besides,” Magnus continues firmly, “it’s also something I want _for myself_.” He says it like the sentence doesn’t quite fit in his mouth. “Starting… _now_.”

And he turns to Alec and takes his face in both hands. “I love you.”

Alec pulls him close and kisses him with all the desperation of having recently thought he’d never get to again. He kisses him with all the pride he feels for this man, who wants so much but asks for so little, finally taking something for himself.

When Magnus pulls away, he tucks his face into Alec’s shoulder, and Alec draws him down so they’re lying on the couch, Magnus resting on his chest.

“I expect lessons, Alexander,” Magnus says.

“On what?”

“Emotional bluntness. I want to know how you do it so easily.”

Alec runs a hand through Magnus’s hair. “It wasn’t always easy.”

“Somehow, I can’t imagine even a young Alexander Lightwood tiptoeing around anything.”

“Not tiptoeing, but— I don’t know. There were a lot of things that I just—never told anyone, before I met you. Never thought I would be _able_ to tell anyone.”

Magnus doesn’t lift his head from Alec’s neck, but Alec can tell he’s listening carefully.

“Being able to tell you that I love you…” For the first time in a while, Alec struggles to find the words. “You can’t overestimate how… _powerful_ that is to me.”

Magnus does look up at him then. His gaze is soft, fond with a tinge of melancholy.

“It feels powerful,” he says.

Alec cradles his face between his hands. “It’s okay if it takes you a while to get the hang of it. You have a lot of history to work against.”

Magnus laughs quietly. “That’s an understatement.”

“It’s okay,” Alec repeats, “because I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Magnus nods. “And neither am I.”

He puts so much weight into it that Alec knows he’s serious. About trying. About being vulnerable. About being honest with himself.

Alec vows to himself that he’ll do better, too, try to meet him halfway instead of jumping forward without him.

“I love you,” Magnus says, and okay, maybe Alec _did_ need to hear him say that more often, because everything within him blooms to hear it.

He pulls Magnus close and kisses him.

*

Coming home to Magnus has always been a blessing. But there’s a new sort of warmth in Alec’s chest when he sees him now, now that they’re married, now that Magnus is _settled_.

Magnus is on the phone when Alec gets home, so he busies himself making drinks. He still can’t do it as well as Magnus, but he’s working on it.

Magnus flings his phone across the room when he sees Alec is finished with the drinks. Alec’s not sure if he actually hung up the call or not.

“I see my workday is finished!” Magnus says as he comes over to him.

Alec hands him a drink, rolling his eyes. “Not sure it’s much of a workday if it falls apart at the slightest distraction.”

“Oh, but what a lovely distraction.” He throws Alec a wink, which is relatively unsuccessful given he’s trying to take a sip of his cocktail at the same time.

“Acceptable?” Alec asks once Magnus has tasted it.

Magnus beams up at him. He smiles at Alec differently now, with the full force of his emotions, not holding anything back. There’s an exuberance to him now that Alec had only caught glimpses of before, this riot of color and energy in his heart, now fully on display.

Alec loves him so much.

“It’s perfect, darling,” Magnus says. “I love you.”


End file.
